


i am become death, destroyer of worlds

by princessafterthought



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, DCU, DCU (Comics)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Gen, Minor Character Death
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-03
Updated: 2015-06-29
Packaged: 2018-04-02 15:12:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,896
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4064593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/princessafterthought/pseuds/princessafterthought
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>But most times, it does not matter at all. Sandra Woo-San died long ago. And Shiva, Shiva does not owe anything to anyone.</p><p>- or a repository of lady shiva drabbles -</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> ++ transplanted from my tumblr rp blog: shiva-become-death.tumblr.com

I

He says he will kill her, but instead he stands in front of her and he trembles.

It disgusts her. There is a gun in his hands and he points it straight at her, but they both know that he will not do it.

He knew his fate the moment she stepped in the room, but he does not challenge it the way honorable men should. He does not fight. He cowers. He fears.

She steps out of the darkness and pushes down the shaking gun, wrapping her hand over his on the trigger.

"It is not I who will die tonight," she whispers, but unlike him, she does not tremble.

 

 

II

They call her واحد الذي هو كل, The One Who Is All.

Those who have seen her have said that she is a girl of no more than four and that The Hunter has had her since she was a baby. They say she can take down full-grown men in seconds, but cannot say a single word.

But then again, they say a lot of things.

Sometimes, when she hears them say them, Shiva thinks of another life with a man who held her by the hips and taught her to be free.

Sometimes, she thinks of training and of traveling and of how she used to hold back before he opened her eyes, and of all the things she paid to get rid of the debt she owed to him.

And sometimes, when she cannot find distractions, her stomach aches and she thinks about running her fingers over long-healed stretch marks just to check if they have reappeared.

But most times, it does not matter at all. Sandra Woo-San died long ago. And Shiva, Shiva does not owe anything to anyone.

 

 

III

In Brazil, a man claims to be the best martial artist in the world.

"You may have trained me first," he smiles cockily, and he beckons her close, "but I have spent every day learning since then. And now, the student surpasses the master. Bow down, Shiva, and I may spare your life."

"Spare my life?" she looks up at the man with a toothy grin, "I think you forget the promise I made to you."

She is a leopard, a tiger, a fox and he only ever knew how to be one of those. He strikes with swiftness and she counters with force.

She may have raised him up, but now it is time for him to fall.

He gasps for breath and she seethes, "I promised that I would destroy you when I saw you next."

Then, her hands are inside his neck. With a gurgle of blood he falls to the ground.

"You promised me a challenge," she spits at his lifeless body, "and I _despise_ liars."

 

 

 

IV

"In some countries," Shiva says coldly, "it would be an honor to your whole family for three generations for you to be killed by me."

The boy laughs, "Not in this one, lady. Me, I like living just fine."

"One day," Shiva replies, "you will not feel the same. Your body will ache to be put down and you will waste away to nothing. If you do not die tonight, you will run forever. Would you prefer that?"

"I'll take my chances," he grits out.

She lets him run.

 

 

V

The anger is fresh under her skin, and it courses through her bloodstream.

She does not understand anything anymore. Not manipulation, lies or deceit. People say words, but she does not listen anymore.

One day, it will end, she knows. And that is the only thing she understands.

The anger will die down and she will lie on the floor, gasping for breath, but not mercy- _never mercy_.

She follows her stomach now, wherever the rage pulls her, and she does as she likes now.

She crushes windpipes and she creates warriors and she trains with the best of them. She takes pleasure in graceful movements and killing strokes and the way a warm fire on a cold night can warm one's bones. She travels to wherever it amuses her for it does not matter where her path takes her anymore: she will train to become unbeatable or she will die a worthy death.

So Shiva waits and she watches and she lets the anger build in her bones.

When the time is right, this will all end.

But for now, she is Lady Shiva and she _destroys_.

 

_fin_


	2. there were two of us once, you know

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Before. 
> 
> Before everything, they were just kids that we once knew.

The climb to the top of the hill is long and arduous, but it’s not that bad, because they always do it together.

Holding hands, one pulls ahead of the other sometimes, but the other always catches up.

Except this time.

The younger one breaks free and she laughs, the older one just barely out of reach. She digs into the ground extra hard this time and she pants from exertion.

When she reaches the top, she punches the air with her fists and yells just long enough so her sister reaches the apex of the hill with her. She aims a loose strike at her older sister, easily dodged, well-intentioned and they collapse into a fit of giggles.

When it all quiets down, they sit next to each other. The older one speaks first.

“Den wo, hao ma?”  _Wait for me, won’t you?_

There is never any doubt in the littler one’s mind.

“Yong yuan hao, jie jie.”  _Always, sister._

They link hands again and all is well again. The next time, they reach the top of the hill together.

 

-

They are twins.

She is the younger one. But other than that, they are equal in every single way.

Carolyn parries and Sandra steps back. It is a dance they both know the steps to. They can read it in each others eyes, feel it each others bones. People come from all around to watch them spar.

Combat is their language. They do not have to speak to understand each other. The ties run deeper than that. They have been forged in years of practice and they do not quaver now.

When one moves, the other moves with her. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she know that  she is being held back, it doesn’t matter. For as they live, they are a single soul in two bodies.

Carolyn sweeps out Sandra’s legs and Sandra uses her momentum to kick herself into a handstand. Smiling, she twists her body and tries to land a blow on her sister’s face.

She misses, of course. Carolyn can see it coming and Sandra has never wanted to hide anything from her.

A man from the audience slow claps and her blood runs cold. It scares her and she doesn’t know why.

 _~~One day, she will come home to find her lying in a puddle of blood with that same man standing over her. It will take her years t~~ _ **_~~o wash the feel of her sister out of her skin, learn to move on her own~~ _ ** **.**

But for now, she does not think of that. They are twins. They are evenly matched. They are happy together. And they dance.

 

-

 

Bruce Lee dances across the screen with a series of organized blows and everyone sits at the dingy little black and white television, trying to get a good look. 

Sandra sighs and she burrows her hand into Carolyn’s. Sensei Otomo sits next to her and she smiles at him.

At their feet, Ben Turner and Richard Dragon start to bicker. 

“Nah  _busu*_ , I would be Bruce Lee,  _Dragon_  master.”

“ _Aho_ **, you’re obviously Chuck Norris. No match for the Dragon,” Richard puffs out his chest and raises one eyebrow imposingly. 

Carolyn kicks Dragon in the back with the tip of her toes. Aiming a grin at Sandra, she silences them, “Wo men shi Bruce Lee. Ni men shi Chu-Kuh No-Rees.***”

Ben pulls a face at them, but no one denies it. Sensei Otomo even rests a hand on Sandra’s shoulder. He holds her hand, shaping it in the way the character on screen have theirs: fingers curved, palm straight, strength in every joint and tendon.

She thinks she could stay here forever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *japanese slang for ugly; **dumb-’butt’; ***chinese for “we would be bruce lee. you guys would be chuck norris” or in my bad transcription of an accent “chu-kuh no-rees“


	3. trouble follows me wherever i go

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in which Lady Shiva takes down some thugs and show what a lady really can do.

“Move along, lady, we don’t want no trouble.”

There are seven of them, each squatter and bigger than the last, and their cigars gleam like fireflies in the dark ally.  One huffs out a breath after he calls out to the shadow at the end of the path, the smoke escaping his mouth and glowing, luminescent in the evening air.

She steps into sunlight, harsh shadows across her face, and smiles, “You don’t, but perhaps  _I_  do.”

A cigar hits the ground and the biggest man snubs it out with the sole of his shoe, as the rest trade snickers in the dark.

“Listen,” he commiserates glibly, “I don’t know who you think you are, but everyone knows this here city is Boxy Bennett territory and we’ve asked you to move along, so move. _Or else we’re gonna have to teach you a lesson_ , lady or not.”

There is a tinkle of indulged laughter escaping her lips, before the woman begins to walk closer, “But you haven’t even heard my offer.”

“I think we’ve heard all we want to hear,” they’re meters away from each other now and the woman is unmistakably coming closer.

“Hey Bruzzo,” the man calls out to one of his colleagues, cracking his knuckles, “What’s the first rule Bennett told us?”

Someone choruses behind him, “Anyone who thinks they’re someone gotta be taken down a few notches.”

“Yeah, that’s right,” the mook grins widely before turning to the woman,  now within arm’s length from him, “And you look like you can be taken down several.”

Without warning, he swings a fist at her, the air whistling from the sheer force. The men wait in anticipation for the inevitable crunch - -  that never comes.

The woman weaves out of the way of his punch, jabbing three times at his torso  before landing a solid elbow on the side of his neck. He stumbles back, surprised before his eyes narrow and he swings again. But this time, she doesn’t duck. With two hands she grabs his arm and in one swift movement, she bends it backwards, the bone shattering with a terrifying crack only accompanied by his anguished screams.

She twists it behind his back now, putting it at an awkward angle as tears bead out of his eyes. Already on his knees, she forces his face to the ground, still holding his arm.

“Now apologize,” she grinds her foot into the base of the man’s neck, “apologize for your rudeness or suffer the consequences.”

The man mutters out something terrified and rushed, his lips bubbling with blood and just as soon as it comes out, she lifts her leg from its place. He looks up at her in relief for one solid moment before she brings her foot down one irreversible last time, stomping his throat into the ground.

“I do not want territory,” she turns to the remaining men, cowering, like they always do, “but trouble? Trouble follows me wherever I go. I am the Lady Shiva and you may tell your leader that I will be here for three more hours. If he has a job for me, I will have to be notified before I leave.”


End file.
